


Lie Detector

by pentameter_and_pen



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-03
Updated: 2014-04-03
Packaged: 2018-01-18 02:04:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1410928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pentameter_and_pen/pseuds/pentameter_and_pen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>CS. Emma can’t seem to shake the feeling that something isn’t right about her new life – like something’s missing. [Takes place at the end of 3x11. Possibly during 3x12]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lie Detector

Emma Swan is great at picking out lies. It’s almost like a super power. Her skin starts to tingle, while a weight in her gut shifts telling her when something is true. It’s been happening since she can remember. It’s what makes her so good at what she does. 

That’s why she knows something doesn’t feel right about her life. Something about it is… _wrong_.

At first she thinks it might be because she can’t remember ever being this happy. And that it might be the latent guilt she feels for almost giving him up all those years ago – guilt for those eighteen seconds where she’d almost denied herself a happy ending. A life with the one person she can’t imagine living without.

Henry turned out to be an amazing kid. Better than she deserves, considering that twelve years ago she’d almost given into her fear that she was going to screw this ‘motherhood’ thing up. Instead he’s made it easy and she thinks she might actually be good at it – what more could she ask for?

…Maybe that’s why she’s waiting for the other shoe to drop – the perfection of it all.

That’s when she stops herself and tells herself she’s being silly. Why go hunting for flaws when there are none?

Still… she can’t shake these feelings – her skin tingling incessantly, the weight in her stomach constantly shifting – as they tell her that something isn’t quite right…

She feels it every day at work. She feels it when she comes home to the apartment. Sometimes… she even feels it when she’s with Henry.

That scares her the most. 

Thankfully she knows it isn’t their love for one another. That feels real. When she looks at him or thinks about how much she loves him the weird itching sensation stops and her stomach goes still. It’s how she knows it can’t be a lie.

But sometimes, those feelings come back when she looks at old photographs or thinks about his childhood. The creative writing contests he’d won, the fencing matches she’d gone to see – even his attempts to convince her to adopt the Dalmatian puppy at the pound.

The feelings faded a little over the past year. Now not all her memories of her sun were tinged with the familiar sensation that accompanied other aspects of their lives. A part of her thinks it might be the fact that she now owns an apartment. A bigger part knows that’s not the case. Why else would they still remain persist in other aspects of her life?

Other than her time with Henry, the only brief respite from her constant lie detecting comes when she sits her Beetle, or when holding certain objects in her apartment. Like the old bow and arrow she’d bought Henry during his archery phase, or the typewriter he’d gotten her for her birthday last year. She’d even felt it when she’d worn that old hood as a part of her ‘Red Riding Hood’ costume last Halloween.

But even as those feelings of falseness faded away another feeling would come over her. A sense of déjà vu that ran deeper than usual, but almost like she’d forgotten something – something at the tip of her tongue…

Something that felt  _true_.

This new feeling intensified every time she and Henry read his book of fairy tales before he went to bed – a tradition he’d yet to grow out of – something she hoped wouldn’t happen any time soon. Each time he read aloud a story she felt like she was closing in on something… She just hadn’t grasped what it was quite yet.

Nevertheless these new feelings rang truest when they read the tale of Snow White. At first Emma thought it was because it was their favourite story. Henry loved everyone in it – he even had a soft spot for the Evil Queen. Come to think of it he had a soft spot for every storybook villain, Rumplestiltskin, the Big Bad Wolf, even the giant from ‘Jack and the Beanstalk’. This had never bothered her. Henry always seemed to see the good in everyone. She wasn’t sure where he’d gotten that from – certainly not her. 

The only character he seemed to have a problem with was Peter Pan. Not that Emma could blame him. She didn’t have a lot of love for the boy who never grew up either. Though this was possibly because she’d had to grow up all too fast. Or at least that’s what she told herself, something about her dislike rang true… like there was a real reason.  

This was strange considering she had a hard time mustering up an argument against Regina herself.

There. She’d done it again. Called the Evil Queen ‘Regina’.

It was a habit she’d picked up from Henry sometime over the last year. She wasn’t sure when they’d started naming fairy tale characters, but somehow hearing the words ‘Mary Margaret’, ‘David’ and even ‘Mr. Gold’ had helped soothe the tingling as her skin constantly shifted, telling her something wasn’t quite right.

That’s what makes this morning so damn crazy.

As she stands there, listening to the Man Clad in Black Leather call her ‘Swan’, and tell her that her family is in danger, that feeling stops. What’s more, that other feeling emerges, stronger than ever, telling her there’s something about him she must remember.   

Gazing into his imploring blue eyes, she feels the same as she does when Henry smiles at her or hugs her. The weight settles, telling her this is indeed true, while another part – a much larger one – screams that he holds the answers she’s been seeking.

The only time this ceases is when he calls himself her ‘old friend’. That’s when her feelings pull a complete one-eighty, insisting that this is a lie and he means more than that.

Before she can examine these feelings further, his lips are on hers…

The moment they collide she feels a long forgotten memory spring open in her mind, like something from a past life. Desperately she tries to grasp onto it, knowing it holds the key to all these feelings.

But that is when her instincts kicked in – literally – as she knees him in the groin and pushes him away, causing the memory to slip between her fingers. She almost grabs and kisses him again to bring it back.

Instead, before she can, she feels something come over her, telling her this is wrong and that this ‘old friend’ is nothing more than a stranger and that she had better close the door on him despite her instincts screaming otherwise.  _This_  is the lie, they say, skin tingling and stomach shifting.

His appeal to her, there was something real in that. She doesn’t need her super power to tell her that.

But somehow, as if she’s under a spell, she dismisses him, shutting the door on his pleas.

The second the door shuts it feels as if the stranger had never shown up on her doorstep, the memory of him beginning to fade already. But her feelings don’t seem to want her to forget. The tingling is now an itch buried too deep to be scratched, while her stomach keeps turning violently.

She knows she should open the door again, but instead she returns to Henry and tells him that some crazy person was let into the building.

Henry accepts this even if she can’t.

The crazy person, Emma thinks, is  _me_. Why else would she feel like she’s living a lie? Why else would a perfect stranger feel like the most familiar thing in the world. To make the feelings go away she begins a game she’d started playing a long time ago, to remind herself that not everything is lie like her senses would have her believe.     

Name… Emma Swan…  _True_.

Henry’s love for her…  _True_.

Her love for Henry…  _True_.  
She drives a Yellow Volkswagen Beetle…  _True_.  
She can tell when people are lying to her…  _True_.

She sips her own hot cocoa, her feelings starting to calm down. As she watches Henry put away the dishes, she dares to ask herself something she didn’t have the courage to until now…

Am I lying to myself?

 _True_.

It is then the memory returns to her and this time she grips onto it tightly, assuaging the feeling in her gut as she does so. However, it is only after Henry goes inside to get ready for school that Emma has the courage to enter the door the familiar stranger has opened in her mind.

As she does so she remembers a kiss – not so long ago – born in loneliness, shared kinship and…  _attraction_. She feels soft, warm leather in her hands as the tangled smells of mahogany polish and sea air flood her nose, all at once strange and comforting. But it’s her lips that remember most of all… How his beard bristled against her lips… The gentle urgency of his mouth as if she were a fine scotch he was trying very hard to savour slowly but couldn’t… The way he tasted ever so faintly of rum and adventure and…  _beans_?

And deep within her the itching stops and the weight settles as she knows without a doubt that not only is this no lie, but that it’s wrapped around something much more important.

Slowly, her mind reaches for it, unravelling it…

Until slowly it begins to dawn on her…

The Answer…  

It’s on the tip of her tongue…

“Killian.” She whispers out loud, making the word a reality.

In that moment, without a doubt, she knows…

 _True_.  

**Author's Note:**

> As usual I welcome any thoughts, comments, questions or concerns. If you liked this, you can find more of my work on tumblr, ff.net or AO3.


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